Star Wars: The Coming Storm
by London Kassidy
Summary: 400 years after the Battle of Yavin, The New Galactic Alliance is in peril. An unknown enemy plots from the shadows in preparation for a devastating conflict. And Corlen Matale, Jedi Padawan, finds himself at the forefront of events that will lead to either the galaxy's salvation...or destruction.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars in any way, shape, or form. Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm and Disney.

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I had this story up for a bit, took it down, and now I'm back for another try. Enjoy and review!

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Star Wars: The Seven Years War

The Coming Storm

Prologue

Ossus, Adega System, Auril Sector 394 A.B.Y. (After the Battle of Yavin)

A warm summer breeze cascaded over the foliage surrounding the New Praxeum grounds, causing the trees to dance to a song only they could hear, accompanied by the glow of the sun's first rays peeking over the horizon. Zefram Solo inhaled deeply through his nose, held the breath till the count of twenty, and then released in a slow whoosh through his mouth. At that moment, he felt completely synchronized with the universe, and he chose that moment to jump from the wall he was standing on. As he plummeted toward the soft ground, with his shoulder length brown hair whipping behind him, his mind was completely blank. No worries, no obligations, nothing to distract him from knowing when to place his feet on the ground. And when he did hit the ground, he did it with the softness and grace of a leaf landing on the surface of a still lake. Within the same second of landing, he had drawn his lightsaber and ignited its teal blade, holding it vertically in line with his shoulders. He then launched into a rapid succession of forms, his blade a mere blur. Leaping, rolling, back-flips and one-armed cartwheels, he did them all in perfect harmony with his blade; he was the eye of the hurricane, operating on pure instinct. He kept this up for a full half-hour, before coming to a full stop. He stood up straight, brought his blade to within an inch of his face, slowly released another breath through pursed lips, and deactivated it with a snap-hiss.

"How long have you been standing there, brother?"

"Long enough to see you've been practicing." Garren Solo replied, grinning, as he stepped from the shadows, his green robe flowing in the slight breeze.

"Well, I did have a good teacher." Zefram couldn't help but laugh: the shock on Garren's face was priceless.

"Good? Good?! You had the best!" They then came to playful blows which then resulted in a Corellian style bear hug.

"Took you long enough to get back here! How was the conference on Manaan?"

"It went better than I hoped. Although I found the seaweed dishes served at the party afterwards a little…dry, if you can believe that."

"I can. Selkath cuisine is not high on my list. I much rather prefer Zeltron."

"Do you mean you like the food, or the waitress who serves you your food?" Zefram didn't reply immediately to this question, instead appearing to ponder before giving an ominous "Yes" while grinning.

"Come on." Garren ruffled his hair. "I have to make my report to the Council, so the sooner I get started the sooner I can finish. And then we can go eat."

"Sounds like a plan." They began to make their way to the Temple. However, Garren did not get more than five steps before he began to stagger, with Zefram barely catching him.

"Garren, are you all right?!"

"Yes…yes I'm fine. I just had a case of dizziness." The look on his face said otherwise. Zefram decided to take a chance.

"Did you see something? A vision?" Garren hesitated, then remembered that this was his brother. He could trust him.

"Yes, I did. I saw… a great battle. Such carnage and destruction as I had never seen before, millions dead and dying. And standing in the center of all the chaos was a man, clad in armor covered by Jedi robes and wielding a golden lightsaber. He was also flanked by two women. As for the man, I couldn't see his face but…I could see his eyes. He was staring at me with deep purple eyes. And then, I heard this voice. Barely a whisper, but I understood it clearly."

"What did the voice say, brother?"

"Dantooine. Find me on Dantooine."

(-)

As the transport _Shooting Star_ roared through hyperspace toward Dantooine on autopilot, Garren and Zefram sat and meditated in the common room, preparing to search for the voice that had called out through the Force. Before Garren broke his meditation, he was able to narrow down the search radius to within thirty miles surrounding the capital city of New Khoonda. But it would not be difficult, for the Force would guide them to their goal. It would also be easier since they didn't have to reach out halfway across the galaxy. Suddenly, the ship indicated that they had arrived in the Dantooine system and was dropping out of hyperspace. As the brothers walked into the cockpit, the tranquil farm world appeared in the viewport, replacing the starlines of lightspeed. Several thousand years of war, politics, and other cataclysmic events hadn't changed much of the farm world. Apart from the devastation inflicted on the world by the extra-galactic hordes of the Yuuzhan Vong, which resulted in the genocide of the native Danteri race, not much else had happened here in recent times.

"Lovely place for retirement, eh old man?" Zefram chimed in as the vessel drew closer. Garren could only groan in humorous annoyance. Despite being only thirty-one, Zefram sarcastically called him 'old man' in reference to his above average maturity and the fact that after their father's death, Garren had assumed the patriarchal role in the family . But before he could make a snappy comeback, he clearly felt the presence once again and it was giving him directions. Plotting in the coordinates, he wasn't surprised where they had to go.

The Ancient Jedi Enclave of the Old Jedi Order had been found by a group of fugitive Jedi during the days of the damnable Sith Lord Darth Krayt's brutal rule of the galaxy. They had hid there for six months before a stormtrooper garrison loyal to Krayt and his One Sith Order stationed on the world had found them by accident. The garrison was destroyed and the Jedi were forced to abandon the Enclave ruins. No one had been in them for at least three hundred years. "Perfect place for someone to hide." Garren mused to Zefram, as he landed the ship in what remained of the inner courtyard, the landing thrusters kicking up long settled dust and debris. As they walked down the descending ramp, Zefram couldn't help but notice how much this place needed a good cleaning. Then it hit them.

"Brother, we're not alone."

"I know, Zef." A small pack of kath hounds came out of the shadows, approaching the vessel. Zefram began to move for his lightsaber, but Garren raised his hand, realizing that the hounds weren't actually threatening them. They were just watching the brothers, waiting for them to make the next move. "Don't worry, I don't think they're going to eat us." He motioned with the Force for the ramp to close and secure behind him. "But they do want us to follow them." They walked forward, flanked by the hounds, and descended into the dusty bowels of the Enclave.

The halls reeked of dust, mold and filth; typical of a place that had been devoid of civilized life for centuries. Yet there was life in the Enclave; Garren could sense it. Zefram could to, although he was more focused on how dirty the place was. Further and further into the depths they went, over debris and under collapsed structure beams, until outside light could no longer be seen. Garren, despite the hound's ability to see in the dark, never did like the dark himself. So he pulled out his lightsaber and filled the hallway with a solid green light. "Ah, much better." He said to Zefram, which prompted him to draw his and ignite its teal blade. They continued on until they and their guides arrived at a large round room that appeared to have open windows that had long since caved in from the pressures and abuses of time. In the center, surrounded by additional hounds, was a small basket. Inching toward it cautiously so as not to startle the sentinels, the brothers were surprised to find the basket contained a child; a boy with piercing purple eyes and tufts of reddish-brown hair, making soft mewling sounds. "Aw, he's so cute." Zefram couldn't help but say.

"Yes, cute and powerful if he was able to reach my mind halfway across the Outer Rim Territories." Garren exclaimed in response. As he reached into the basket and picked up the child, a small holo-projector fell out of the wrappings and landed on the floor. It activated, revealing a middle-age man with short brown hair dressed in Jedi robes. The image flickered while it began to speak.

"If you are listening to this, than you are holding my son in your arms. His name is Corlen, and due to unfortunate circumstances which I cannot reveal at this time, I cannot raise him myself. Please take care of him; train him for he is strong in the Force and will make a fine Jedi someday. I wish I could tell you everything but..." He took a breath to compose himself. "Well, there's just too much to explain. Corlen, I love you and I am so sorry. I hope you will understand in time. Goodbye, whoever you are, and thank you. May the Force be with you." The hologram vanished, leaving Garren and Zefram standing there, holding the child, all alone. The kath hounds had vanished as if they had done their job and were no longer needed. They looked down at the baby in Garren's arms, to see that he was looking up with those purple eyes and smiling at them. They couldn't help but smile back, despite some apprehension at Garren's vision.

"Corlen. Now that is a lovely name." Garren said out loud.

"Yes it is." Zefram agreed as they left the chamber. But not before picking up the recorder; just in case.


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars in any way, shape, or form. Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm and Disney.

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Chapter 1

Alsakan, Alsakan System, Alsaka Sector 414 A.B.Y

Three hundred years since the fall of Darth Krayt, the establishment and later dissolution of the Galactic Federation Triumvirate following the Breaking of Coruscant and subsequent purge of the One Sith Remnant a century later, Alsakan was the capital of the New Galactic Alliance, or New Alliance. Once the chief rival of Coruscant for galactic predominance it had been chosen, in an ironic twist, by the surving members of the Senate to be the new capital world. And now, deep within the halls of the New Senate in the capital city of Xenvaer, presided over by Camden Antillies, scion of one of the galaxy's most famous families, an argument was going that would start a chain reaction of events that would change the galaxy forever…

"It still escapes me why this august body of democracy does not wish to defend itself against those who would see it fall?!" Many of the senators, while gritting their teeth, couldn't help but admire the tenacity of the current speaker. At five feet seven inches with dark brown hair and mild green eyes, thirty year old Ilana Raltova of Chandrila, Senator for the Chandrila System, was a woman of small, unassuming stature, but her voice made up for it on the Senate floor. And with that voice, she brought to her fellow Senators once again, a measure of extreme importance. At least she thought it was.

"I have told you time and again that the Defense Forces do not possess the man power or the resources to effectively deal with all the problems that this government faces, such as the massive refugee crisis due to the secession of the Tion Hegemony, the Corporate Sector Authority and the Hutt Territories! And may I remind the Senate of the increasing attacks of Alliance shipping and bombings on at least a dozen different world. We need an expanded military. A military that will make sure that our beloved institutions, and those who depend on them, remain safe from those who would wish their destruction! I urge this honorable body of representatives to act in the best interests of the Alliance and vote in favor of the Military Enhancement Act." With a final gesture, she ended her plea and took her seat to the sound of minor, but genuine applause. But she barely touched the cushions before another voice rang out in the Hall. The voice of a man who led the opposition, a man whose balls Ilana wished would shrivel, fall off, and catch on fire. Fifty two year old Jaagen Troshaw of Taloraan, Senator for the Kelavine System, was a foot taller than Raltova and a several inches wider. His thinning hair and oddly shaped nose gave him the impression of an eccentric relative that you never felt comfortable around and never liked to talk about. But with good connections and sizable family fortune behind him, he was one of the most important Senators and his opinion carried considerable weight. Now he was going to share that opinion, which always involved money.

"The best interests, you say? Well, from a financial standpoint many Senators, including myself, do not believe a standing army is in the best interests of anyone. Especially the citizens who have to pay for this army through raised taxes. Armies cost money, and we have not had a serious conflict plague the New Alliance since its restoration at the end of the Second Imperial Civil War. Do the people really want to pay for an army which, for all intents and purposes, would be a waste of time and resources? I motion the Senate to defer the vote until my fellow Senators and I can find a way to revise this act so that all parties will find equal ground." A loud murmur of voices swept through the hall as the Senators discussed this point of view, with many of them agreeing. But Ilana silenced them.

"A waste? How could the defense of democracy be a waste? Does everyone seem to forget the Krath War which occurred not two years ago? That bloody uprising in the Empress Teta system which, on the capital world's doorstep, was barely contained by our meager forces at such a tremendous cost? Or the recent anarchy overwhelming the Tion Hegemony? Or the Corporate Sector Authority closing its borders? Or the increase in raider activity along the Permelian Trade Route and the Hydian Way? These are clear examples of our need for a stronger and better equipped military because, Senator Troshaw, there is no price tag on freedom and security nor should there be. No one wants a war, not even I, but we must be prepared for the worst, should the worst arise. Or perhaps you are saying it would be an extravagant waste…to the pockets of your wealthy constituents?" This generated a fierce clamor as shouted each other down trying to voice their support or their displeasure. Just when the noise became unbearable, Camden's voice rang through the hall.

"SILENCE!" A hush passed through the hall, and Camden smiled. "Good. Now, Senator Troshaw motioned for the vote to be deferred to a later date. Does anyone second this motion?" The Nosaurian Senator Krav Ganda of Favador raised his hand to second. Ilana could have screamed. "Very well, the motion has been made and seconded. We will reconvene for the vote on the Military Enhancement Act in one week, which is more than enough time for Senator Troshaw and his associates to submit their revisions. If nothing else is on the agenda, the Senate is adjourned."

(-)

"Sometimes, Ilana, I worry about you. I know you mean well, but you seem committed to kicking a Nexu in the ass, then sticking your head in his mouth while pouring Trandoshan barbeque sauce on yourself." Camden couldn't but laugh at the image forming his mind as he poured brandy for himself and his guest at his quarters in the Alliance Executive Tower. Ilana couldn't help but groan and hold her head in her hands.

"I know, I know, I KNOW, Damn it all! You, of all people, taught me to never lose my cool in there! But every time Troshaw gets up to speak, I want to rip his arm off and beat him to death with it, and then shoot him just to make sure! She accepted the brandy offered, downing it in one gulp. "It just feels like nobody cares about what's going on! The vote has been deferred yet again, thanks to you, which means if somebody decides to wage a war with us right now we'll be unprepared for anything they throw!" Ilana's face had a pleading look to it, as if begging Camden to understand her point of view.

"First of all, Troshaw has the right to defer a vote. It's in the Constitution. And besides, from his point of view, do we really need to enlarge the military? That might send the wrong message at this delicate time and I for one would wish to resolve this in a way that does not result in bloody noses and knuckles, much less a full-scale war!"

"You're right, Camden. It just makes the hairs on the back of neck curl thinking of what could happen while we do nothing except talk and debate until we have an army beating down our doors, looking for our heads on sticks. I mean, look at the refugee situations on Bespin, Talasea, Druckenwell, the secession of three major sectors in the Outer Rim and the attacks on trade lanes which are already pushing our space forces to the limit. And all of this going on while the Enhancement Act is being bogged down by bureaucracy! Too much is going on at the same time for it to be simply a coincidence!"

Camden thoughtfully scratched his chin. "I do see what concerns you, and I do believe you."

"All right then! So what can we do?" Ilana's face lit up with unrestrained hope. However, Camden let out a smirk of his own.

"What **you** are doing…is taking a vacation!" Ilana's smile evaporated.

"A vacation?! But why?"

"Ilana, when was the last time you took a serious vacation?" Of course Ilana tried to lie, but Camden knew her too well.

"Alright, two years ago but that's…"

"But nothing, Senator! You are going on extended leave, effective immediately!" There was no room for debate, but Ilana still had one card to play.

"Well, what about the vote for the passage of the Enhancement Act? I need to be here for that!" Of course, Camden was prepared for that.

"No you don't. Milos can deal with that while you are away. Now I know what you are going to say, so don't. He is more than capable of handling official matters while you are away." Seeing all argument quashed, Ilana slumped on the couch, resigned to her fate.

"Very well, Camden. What sort of vacation did you have in mind?" At that Camden was taken aback; he thought Ilana would have some sort of secret desire to do something that put as much distance between her and work as possible. But she didn't even have that; the Senate was her life, she ate and drank politics. This wouldn't do.

"Well, what about Bestine IV? I know you love the ocean and your sister Aeryn is studying at Gial Ackbar University in Senesca City. When was the last time you saw her?" Ilana saw no point in lying.

"Eight months ago, at Javik's funeral." Javik was Ilana and Aeryn's younger brother. An accomplished artist at the age of twenty four, he was killed in a speeder hit-and-run on his way to an art gallery showing. It was the first time Ilana and Aeryn had been together in years, since the death of their parents and their estrangement due to different, and apparently incompatible, lives. "Would she even want to see me, after everything?"

"Of course she would, she's your sister! Besides, you are lucky to have siblings. I was an only child!" A sigh escaped Ilana's lips, now knowing she had no chance of getting out of this insane idea.

"Alright, I make arraignments with Milos and leave first thing tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be fine." A grin of triumph appeared on his face, as they rose and walked toward the door.

"Excellent! I know you won't regret this. After a week, maybe two, you'll feel so much better."

"I hope so." She would have said more, but Camden silenced her with a wave of a hand.

"Don't worry. The suns and moons will still rise and set while you are gone. You aren't the center of the galaxy, after all."

"Thank you for reminding me, Camden. You always could keep me grounded."

"But of course, I'm the President. It's what I do." They laughed all the way out. Unfortunately, their laughter, along with the rest of conversation, was recorded without their consent through a microphone hidden in the light fixtures. In the Tower's basement, the information was transmitted to a data pad. The clocked figure holding the data pad disconnected it, and made his way out through a secret entrance into the sub-level, silently disappearing into the depths of the city.

(-)

The next morning, as the sun crept over the horizon which caused the thousands of glass panes to shimmer like diamonds, a small shuttle traversed the skyline of Xenvaer towards the Han Solo Galactic Spaceport. A towering structure two miles high and three and half miles wide with landing pads which extruded gracefully from the center mass, it was one of the largest spaceports on Alsakan and one of the most important ports in the galaxy. As the shuttle passed by the mammoth structure, Ilana couldn't help but stare in wonder at the structure. "Every time I see this place it brings back memories."

"Oh, really?" Ilana smiled as old memories began to resurface.

"I actually wanted to be a starfighter pilot growing up. It's true. As a little girl, I used to watch ships going in and out of the spaceports for hours. I trained relentlessly with speeders and swoops, and would have joined the Alliance Starfighter Corps if not for the spinal injury. Father wanted all his children to join the military and then go into politics, just like he had done. Aeryn was the only one to enter the service, and I was the only one to enter politics. Javik did neither. Father was furious when he announced his decision and that was the last time he talked to him." Ilana frowned at the memory of that bitter argument and Camden would have replied, but the shuttle pilot announced that they had arrived at their destination. The destination was a private landing pad which held the _Chandrilan Dream_, a custom built space yacht designed to Ilana's exact specifications: speed and maneuverability. Camden had traveled in it with Ilana once when she had just been elected Senator, and he knew she could fly. She couldn't handle the g-forces of a starfighter, but she could fly! As the shuttle landed, Camden pulled a package out from under his seat and gave it to Ilana, who looked at him quizzically.

"A little something for the trip, and to share with Aeryn." Ilana opened the package, and her eyes widened.

"Oh Camden, you shouldn't have!" Inside the package was a bottle of Whyren's Reserve sandwiched between two loaves of Ryshcate. Ilana had a weakness for Corellian food, especially the desserts.

"Now now, I don't want to hear a word of complaint. This is for the both of you, and I expect you to both enjoy it. Understood?"

"Of course, Camden." As they stepped off the shuttle, the two politicians continued to talk: Ilana expressing her concern about the upcoming vote and whether her sister would want to see her, and Camden reassuring her that everything would be alright. The verbal battle continued right up to the gangplank, where Ilana finally yielded to the Chief of State.

"Now, have fun and don't think about politics! I will find out if you do. I have people _everywhere_." Waving his hands for dramatic effect only brought laughter out of Ilana.

"All right then, I will try not to disappoint you." Camden looked down upon this statement.

"Ilana, do or do not. There is no try."

"Camden, I thought you didn't like the Jedi Order!"

"I don't have to like or dislike the Jedi to respect their wisdom. Besides, I want you to relax and think of something other than committee meetings and budget proposals. You deserve to have a life out of politics, and you have the right to live that life. Now get on board before I lecture you to death!"

With a final embrace, Ilana ascended the ramp. "Oh Camden? Thank you for the package, I'm sure Aeryn will love it."

Camden smiled and waved her off. He moved back to watch the take off to make sure she wouldn't change her mind at the last second. As the _Dream_ rose off the landing pad, he hoped that, when she came back, she would have some wonderful stories to tell.

That's when the _Chandrilan Dream_ exploded.

The magnificent ship was immediately turned into a fireball which seemed to hang in the air for a second, then plummeted straight down, slamming into a passing freighter and dragging both down into the depths. Camden, knocked down by the concussive blast, could only watch in horror as his friend and colleague was engulfed in flames, numb to everything else, barely hearing the wailing of sirens nor noticing the hands of the security guards as they hauled him onto his feet and ushered him into the shuttle.

All he saw were the flames.

(-)

At his private office and far too early in the morning, Jaagen Troshaw was nursing another brandy to ease the migraine brought on by dealing with proposals, petitions and with that wretched Raltova woman. Ever since the Military Enhancement Act was brought to the Senate floor a year ago, the Chandrilan bitch had focused on nothing else; it was her food, her water, the very air she breathed. It was also the burr in his ass, as well as several other senators. But, she was Camden Antillies friend and protege, so she was able to get away with far more than she should have. But several months ago, an…individual of an unknown affiliation had promised to deal with Raltova in exchange for property rights for the majority of the tibanna gas stores on Taloraan. He had agreed to the deal, albeit reluctantly. Although how his associate would 'deal' with Raltova was a source of great puzzlement. His train of thought, as well as his drink, was suddenly interrupted.

"Senator Troshaw." The voice betrayed no emotion, yet Troshaw's blood froze. The figure standing behind his chair stayed within the shadows, leaving the Senator with a vague outline to look at. Only his purple eyes could be seen. "You'll be pleased to know that the matter of Senator Raltova's continued interference has been taken care of. Now it's time for you to fulfill your end of our arraignment." If Troshaw knew anything about his shadow visitor, it was that he got straight to the point.

"Yes, of course. The first shipments will arrive at Raxus Secundus as soon as possible."

"Make sure they do." At this point, Jaagen realized he was sweating. Profusely, in fact. In an attempt to shake his nervousness, he moved toward his liquor cabinet. Filling a couple of glasses with an expensive brandy, he raised them up, hoping that his guest wouldn't notice his shaking hands.

"Um, could I interest you in some refreshments?" The response was both glasses exploding in his hands, brandy covering his hands, clothes, and face, and shard of glass nicking his skin.

"Thank you, but no. I have business to attend to. I shall inform my Master of the new developments. We shall talk again in the future, so I shall bid you good day." Without further words, he vanished, leaving Troshaw covered in brandy, glass shards in his hands, and wondering if his bladder had failed on him.


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars in any way, shape, or form. Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm and Disney.

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The character of Tanake Trang is the original creation of GermanCityGirl on deviantART and has been used with her permission. All other characters are my original creations.

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Chapter 2

Grand Jedi Temple, the next day…

As Garren Solo strode quickly through the massive halls of the Temple, his mind raced. He had received a priority message from Jaden Skywalker, Grand Master of the Jedi Order, instructing him and his Padawan to be at the Alliance Executive Building in an hour which really meant two hours ago. He was ready, but where was Corlen? He looked thoroughly, knowing that when Corlen didn't want to be found, no one, except him, could find him. So where could he be? He closed his eyes and opened his mind, letting the multitude of thoughts from all the Jedi engulf him. He waded through them all, avoiding the ones he knew were private, until he found a mind so calm, so at peace, that if the very foundations of the galaxy were collapsing, this mind would not be shaken. He followed this mind to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, at the center of the Temple. There, he found Corlen sitting cross-legged three feet from the ground surrounded by several rings of pebbles rotating slowly, forming a sphere. Garren couldn't help but smile; ever since he could walk his strength in the Force had grown by leaps and bounds. Yet with all that power, the twenty year old possessed a maturity far beyond his age. Then, one by one, the pebbles returned to their respective places as if he had memorized their exact placement. He then stood from his levitating, ran his hands through his brown hair, and released a breath he had been holding.

"Good afternoon, Master."

"Hello, Corlen. Feeling well today?"

"Quite well. Just getting my thoughts in order for the day." He sat down on a nearby stone and ran his hands through his red hair.

"Does it work?"

"Well, it's been two years since I started doing it and so far I've had little trouble sleeping. But..."

"You still have nightmares, don't you?"

"Yes master." As the closest thing to a father Corlen had, he immediately sat down beside him.

"Tell me." Corlen hesitated, afraid of what Garren would think of him. But he forced that fear aside and, taking a deep breath, began.

"I'm back on Cinnagar, before the war ended. I can smell the smoke from all the fires, the scorched ozone from all the blaster and turbolaser fire, and the screaming in the city streets. I'm at the top of the Iron Citadel fighting Lord Sedran. I can see...I can see the arrogance in his eyes as I duel with him, and then I see it turn to fear. I feel the anger inside of me as I force him toward the edge of the tower. And then, as he was on his knees, I hear him begging for mercy..." He shut his eyes, wincing as the memories.

"You don't need to say anymore, Corlen. I understand."

"You do?"

"Yes. Most boys your age are not surrounded by such death and carnage as you saw during the war. No one should have to see and endure such things. But despite that, you have not only survived but grown stronger because of the trials you faced during the war."

"But what about the nightmares?"

"I don't know. Perhaps it is the Force trying to tell you something."

"Tell me what, Master?" Corlen's eyes reflected his need for answers, but Garren could only give him the truth.

"I...I don't know, Corlen. I wish I did, but even Jedi Masters don't have the answers all the time."

"I understand, Master." Corlen slumped his shoulders in resignation, not only at Garren's inability to help him but also his fear in revealing the whole truth.

"Now, I hope you can forgive me, but we've been summoned by Master Jaden to the Senate. Official business."

"Does this business involve Senator Raltova?"

"It does, unfortunately." Corlen nodded and rose, grabbing his robe and lightsaber.

"Well we should not keep him waiting, should we?" Garren shook his head and rose with Corlen. As the two Jedi made their way to the hangar, Garren put his hand on Corlen's shoulder.

"Corlen, just remember that whatever it is that you are dealing with right now, you don't have to deal with it alone."

"I will, Master." The rest of their walk continued in silence with Corlen finding comfort in his master's support. And yet, doubt and fear dragged behind Corlen like an anchor. Most notably, the fear of Garren's reaction if he ever learned the truth.

(-)

As they disembarked from their transport, Jaden Skywalker, Grand Master of the Jedi Order and Head of the Jedi High Council, ran up to meet them flanked by a young man and a middle age woman. He looked relieved.

"Thank the Force you're here!" Then, remembering his companions, he recovered quickly. "May I introduce Milos Salbern, acting Senator of Chandrila and Satine Bonteri, Senator of Onderon. Senators, may I introduce Jedi Master Garren Solo, my cousin and fellow member of the Jedi Council, and his Padawan, Corlen Matale." Both parties shook hands and exchanged courtesies before making their way inside.

"What's going on? Are we still meeting with Chief of State Antilles?"

"Oh we still are. Unfortunately, there are several Senators who decided to tag along. Right now we have two groups of Senators, one trying to pin blame on the other for Senator Raltova's death. Senators Salbern, Bonteri and I were trying to keep things civil, but it's all but broken down."

"How is Camden?"

"Barely restraining himself." Jaden grimaced at this. "The Militarists are claiming the Pacifists were deliberately involved in, if not outright planned, the assassination of the Senator, as a last ditch effort to cripple the vote. The Pacifists believe that the whole thing was staged in order to gain sympathy through Raltova's apparent martyrdom. It's basically devolved into an enormous pissing contest with the Cheif of State smack in the middle, which means we should get back before he sees red and blood starts flying."

They made it to the main office just in time to see the Chief of State finally lose it.

"ENOUGH! Shouting at each other is not going to get us anywhere with this!" He managed to reign himself in before fists started flying. "Now, as I have already told you, a joint investigation is being conducted by Alliance Security and the Jedi Order as we speak. They are attempting to piece together the wreckage and figure out just what happened. However, unless we calm down and focus, we won't know anything. Now, please return to your respective offices and wait for further information. And rest assured, the vote for the Military Enhancement Act will go forward as planned after a short memorial service which will be held this evening. We will not let this tragedy halt democracy's progress, just as Aeryn Raltova would have wanted. Now get out, all of you." With a final wave and a few bows, the two parties left through separate doors. As Camden was able to finally relax, the party of five walked in and introductions were made.

"I guess it went well, didn't it?" Jaden's casual remark earned him a deadly glare from Camden.

'Oh shut up, Jaden. You're lucky you came in right then." He held up his left hand, spacing his thumb and forefinger millimeters apart. "I was this close to having them all shot. Now I remember why the New Republic was such a disaster. No one could get anything done because of all the arguing and bickering! And I still have ambassadors from over fifty worlds begging me to send more help deal with riots and the floods of refugees when they know that I have almost nothing left except ships from the Core Worlds and the reserves and the budget is being pushed to the limit. But, since you're here, we might get some real work taken care of. Stranger things have happened." Pressing a button on his desk, a serving droid came in carrying a tray with a bottle of Mandalorian wine and five glasses. After wine was poured and enjoyed, the business began.

"So, Mister President, why exactly are we here?" Camden had heard of Garren Solo's direct approach to any situation, and he was impressed.

"Well, I've spoken to the Jedi High Council, and I believe, and they agree, that this investigation needs a predominant Jedi presence." There were quizzical looks from the newcomers, so Jaden stepped in.

"The possibility of war is looming over us even as we speak, and we Jedi are peacekeepers. While Jedi have led armies before it is not a situation that should be desired whatsoever. So the more we can contribute to this investigation, the more likely we might just avoid a full-scale war." Camden nodded in agreement.

"Thank you, Jaden. Right now, we don't know precisely what caused the _Dream's_ destruction. It could have been a technical mishap or someone purposely engineered this attack. Now, for the latter, no one has taken responsibility but we've only recovered half of the actual wreckage, so right now we're just grasping at straws."

"There is no way that this was simply a technical mishap!" Senator Salbern shouted. "The crew who worked on the _Dream_ was hand-picked by Ilana, she knew each and every one of them! Some of them had been her friends for years! Mine too!"

"Which would make it easy, if one of them could be bent, to bypass security and gain total access to the ship, right?" Corlen cut in with a suggestion that no one could deny the possibility of. "Is this why you want the Jedi in this investigation?" Camden nodded.

"Yes, Corlen. While I cannot say I have the closest relationship with the Jedi, I have nothing but respect for your order. This is why you two are being given the two most important missions. Both Milos and Satine agree with me on this." Jaden pulled a pair of datapads from his robe; one for Garren and one for Corlen.

"The Council has decided that Garren will lead the investigation, while Corlen will go to Bestine IV."

"Do you have any leads on Bestine?" Corlen asked, confused at why he wasn't assigned with Garren and hopeful he was getting a better assignment. Camden, however unwittingly, crushed that hope.

"No, you're going to escort Aeryn home to Chandrila."

"Who's Aeryn?"

"Aeryn Raltova, Ilana's sister. She is a Marine Biology student at Gial Ackbar University, and I fear that she might be used as some sort of lightning rod to attract attention to the upcoming session if either faction got a hold of her in order to get sympathy votes. Ilana would kill me if her sister was dragged into this against her will." Corlen was still confused.

"Why can't security forces handle it?" Then the realization dawned on him. "You don't trust anyone else, do you?"

"No, I don't. Anyone else can be bought, threatened, or coerced into betrayal. But what I have known of Jedi is that they are incorruptible. And for this type of mission, I need someone who I can explicitly trust. I may not know you personally, Corlen, but I know your reputation, especially on Cinnagar during the Krath war. I believe I can count on you to keep her safe. Can I?" Grimacing, Corlen wanted to protest until he saw the look in Camden's eyes; this wasn't just a Presidential request, this was a personal plea, a plea of a man who had just lost a close friend. Corlen then understood the Chief of State's point of view.

"Yes sir, you can count on me."

"Thank you, Corlen. I would recommend not using registered transport, in order to not attract attention." Corlen bowed in agreement. "Now if you will all excuse me, I need a moment alone." With that, the five rose and departed. After they had left, Camden sat back in his chair, ran his hands through his hair, and silently savored one of the rare moments of peace and quiet he was allowed.

(-)

Three hours later at the Han Solo Galactic Spaceport, Garren and Corlen were standing near the on ramp to a large refit cargo ship. With all the civil unrest across the galaxy, millions of Alliance loyalists had been forced to flee their homes and resettle on other worlds; Bestine IV was one of them, opening its doors in a sincere gesture of goodwill as it had done so for the survivors from the Great Genocide on Mon Calamari three hundred years ago. Under the cover of a displaced refugee, Corlen would attract far less attention. In his second hand shirt and trousers covered by a rough-spun hooded poncho, he certainly fit the part.

"So, what will you do when I'm halfway across the galaxy?"

"Since I'm leading the investigation, it will be my job to interview the maintenance crew, security, peruse data and leads, and look over the wreckage. It will be quite boring, probably." A laugh was shared between the two, which broke the nervous tension. They stood there for a few moments, like a father sending his son off to school for the first day. Then, quite spontaneously, they shared a fierce hug.

"You take care of yourself, okay?" Garren felt Corlen's nod in his shoulder.

"Same goes for you, old man." Quite reluctantly, they separated and Corlen merged with the massive crowd bound for their ark. Garren watched for a few moments before a pair of voices broke his silent reverie.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"Yes they do. It's quite a bittersweet experience; we are proud to see them grow and mature into independent, self-reliant adults, yet we are sad when they finally go out on their own. It's an ironic situation." Garren couldn't help but laugh as he turned to gaze upon his two oldest friends; Jedi Knight Tanake Trang of Ord Mantell and Jedi Master Sorba Han of Jhansai. Both were Wanderer Jedi who led nomadic lives, going from one world to another like leaves in the wind, doing what was needed but never staying for long. And now, the winds had blown them in Garren's direction, and like it or not, they got hugged as well.

"I never thought I would see you two again! Just what have you been up to?"

"Oh, just the usual. Thwarting pirate gangs, resolving territorial disputes, etc. etc." If Tanakae Trang could be called anything, it was proud. Born into a hard drinking, hard hitting family on the outskirts of the city of Sodonna, she turned out to be one of the hardest hitters of them all. Accepted into the Jedi Order when she was thirteen, she was considered a prodigy and a black sheep at the same time; she started as many bar brawls as she stopped. After she gained Knighthood, the Council was somewhat grateful she became a Wanderer in the Outer Rim Territories rather than taking an apprentice, as having two of her running around would be quite the nightmare.

"Same with me. I was asked to preside over a dozen marriages in the last two months!" Sorba Han was one of the greatest Jedi of his time, and as a Talortai, one of the most unusual. He was taken in as an orphan a hundred years ago but before long his exploits in the Order had become the stuff of legend, despite being rather young according to Talortai standards; he passed the Trials at nineteen, took his first Padawan at twenty, and ascended to the rank of Master at twenty seven. Having presided over dozens of peace treaties and settling several potentially brutal and bloody disputes for the last forty years everyone believed he would take his place on the Jedi High Council, maybe even leading it eventually, but he shocked everyone by becoming a Wanderer Jedi. He hadn't been back to Alsakan in almost twenty years.

"Well, it's wonderful to see you two again! Unfortunately, I have to go attend the memorial service and then report to Alliance Security Headquarters in the morning. But I'm guessing you're coming with me, aren't you?" The smiles erased all doubt from Garren's mind.

"The Force takes us where it will, Garren. You, of all people, should know that."

"Yes I do. It a shame that you had to come back in time for a funeral." Sorba and Tanake nodded somberly.

"Yes, I am truly saddened by Senator Raltova's death. I met her once on Naboo during a trade summit; she was an eloquent speaker."

"I agree. She had a nice ass too, if I say so myself." Garren rolled his eyes as he ushered his companions to his waiting speeder, explaining everything to them.

(-)

Corlen managed to find a spot in the cramped hold where he could sit with as much comfort as possible, which wasn't all that much as something was nudging him in the back. As the last few persons trickled aboard, he closed his eyes and began to attempt sleep when something hit his foot. Opening his eyes, he was looking at a droid, a black and red S-Type Astromech droid that gave off the appearance of being lost.

"Are you all right?" The head swiveled until its triangular photoreceptor was facing him. A series of beeps and whistles followed. Since Corlen had learned Droid-speak, it translated into "I'M LOST, AND MY POWER CELLS ARE RUNNING LOW. I NEED TO FIND A CHARGER PORT!" Just then, Corlen realized that a charger port was the thing nudging him in the back. Shifting to the side, he motioned to the droid, who whirred excitedly and raced over. He plugged in and hummed contently. "THANK YOU. MY IDENTIFICATION NUMBER IS S6-D7. WHAT'S YOURS?"

"My name is Corlen. Corlen Matale, and it's a pleasure to meet you S6. So where did you lose your owner?" Another series of sad beeps and whistles were the response. "I THINK MY MASTER ABANDONDED ME. HE DOESN'T LIKE DROIDS. I WAS SUPPOSED TO STAY WITH HIM BECAUSE HIS PARENTS NEED A CHAPERONE, BUT I LOST HIM IN THE CROWD." Corlen was shocked by this; S6, or 'Essex', seemed like a normal S-Type droid, with somewhat of a childlike air. What wasn't there to like?

"Well, in that case, you can stay with me. I could use the company." Essex whirred happily in response to this, which Corlen took as a yes. "Alright, you charge your batteries and wake me up when you finish. Okay?" "OKAY!" "Excellent." As the droid shut down, Corlen closed his eyes and drifted off to troubled dreams as the massive ship roared into the heavens.

(-)

Vjun, Vjun System

Bast Castle, once the impregnable fortress of Darth Vader, now stood as a stark reminder of what it once was, and what it was now: a ruin with crumbling walls, exposed wiring, and a thick blanket of dust covering everything. It was a mere shadow of its former glory. But it would serve the shadowy assassin for now. As he stood upon a balcony overlooking what remained of the complex, he couldn't help but shake his head in regret; what a marvelous monument to the dark side this was! But now, he could barely sense a whisper of the power that once saturated these halls. But now was not the time to reminisce, now was the time for action.

"General Jantel!" A man emerged from the shadows behind him. Tall, slender with a slight build, and chiseled face beneath a mass of fiery red hair, Jantel didn't look like a soldier, much less an officer. But his focused eyes, hawkish nose, and his red and gray uniform which he wore with a certain pride cast doubts aside.

"Yes, my lord?" He spoke with a professional coldness that would set some on edge, and would impress others.

"Is the communications setup ready?"

"Yes, my lord. The transmission might be a bit…distorted, however. As you know, this location has been abandoned for quite some time. But I am sure it will work properly."

"Well, the technicians don't have to worry. We won't be staying long. Other than that, well done General." He swept into the chamber where the holo-projector flickered to life, revealing a huge cloaked figure. Almost instantly, the assassin bowed before the image.

"What is thy bidding, my master?"

"Is the task completed, my young apprentice?" Behind his mask, the assassin could only grin.

"Oh yes, my Lord. Senator Raltova has been dealt with. I have sent agents to remove her sister from the picture. The Alliance continues to delay dealing with the deteriorating situation on the outer worlds and will be unable to act against us until it is far too late." He thought he heard a chuckle, but put it aside as background noise.

"And the Senators? What of them?"

"They have been well compensated, but will be disposed of should the need arise."

"Well done, Lord Venator. Well done. Return to Raxus Secundus, and prepare our troops. Our time draws near."

"As you command, my Master." The transmission faded away, and Darth Venator, Dark Lord of the Sith, rose gracefully. He motioned to Jantel. Words were not needed as the two walked away from the platform, while behind them technicians and soldiers worked diligently to shut down and pack their equipment.

"Once we've left the surface, order the _Praetorian _to commence immediate surface bombardment. Leave nothing standing."

"Nothing, my Lord?" Jantel was understandably confused. From a strategic point, Bast Castle was a formidable fortress, despite its decrepit state. If he was given the time and resources, he could make it a residence worthy of his master. But Venator's eyes said differently.

"This world no longer serves a purpose for us, especially this castle. It was a place of greatness once, but now it is only a hollow shell. Come, let us away. We have much to do." They strode out of the hall, never once looking back.

(-)

Mere seconds after the last shuttle returned, the Star Destroyer _Praetorian_ unleashed a hail of turbolaser fire onto the castle. Everything that wasn't vaporized collapsed under its own weight. Within minutes, the guns stopped and it was over; Bast Castle, private fortress of Darth Vader, headquarters of the Reborn Palpatine's Dark Side Elite, and last reminder of an almost forgotten Empire, was now nothing more than a smoldering ruin. The _Praetorian_ than turned away from Vjun and vanished into hyperspace; time to let the acid rain do its work.


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars in any way, shape, or form. Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm and Disney.

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The character of Tanake Trang is the original creation of GermanCityGirl on deviantART and has been used with her permission. All other characters are my original creations.

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Chapter 3

Alsakan, Alsakan System, Alsaka Sector.

The memorial service was a short, simple affair led by President Antillies; several close friends and associates said a few kind words each about the late senator in the shadows of heroes who had come before, whose names were synonymous with legend: Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, Gial Ackbar, Leia and Han Solo to name a few. Afterward, following a moment of silence, everyone returned to their duties: the time for tears was over, the time had come for answers.

As the morning sun rose over the horizon, three Jedi made their way to their destination. The halls of the Galactic Alliance Security Headquarters had the faint odor of disinfectant, Garren couldn't help but notice as he and his two Jedi companions strode toward the evidence rooms. "I think Zefram would like this place very much, Tanake."

"Where is your brother, by the way?"

"He's on Hapes. He is the personal adviser to our cousin, the new Queen Mother of the Consortium."

"Oh, lucky him." She replied with a fair dose of sarcasm; Tanake was a very outgoing lover of both men and women, and she made sure to let everyone know. As they boarded a tubrolift and descended, no one spoke until Sorba broke the silence.

"So, Garren, how much of the wreckage were they able to recover?"

"Not a lot. Teams are still looking for pieces. Lucky for us, most of the debris is centralized, so at least we don't have to look too far for anything." With a small ding, the three had arrived. The doors hissed open to reveal what could be mistaken for a junkyard. The whole floor was covered in twisted scraps of metal, some pieces as big as a two-person speeder.

"Ah, welcome! I'm Captain Ganteel, head of the forensics team. I was told to expect you." The Jedi turned to see a rather large Mon Calamari walking toward them.

"Garren Solo, Jedi Master." Ganteel and Garren shook hands. "This is Sorba Han and Tanake Trang. I'm taking over this investigation effective immediately by order of the Chief of State." An affirmative nod was Ganteel's response. "So, what progress has been made?"

"We've managed to separate the remains of the Chandrilian Dream from the remains of the freighter she hit on the way down, so it'll be easier to identify what's what."

"Good. Total casualties?" A data pad was handed to him.

"3 dead, 22 wounded, and 4 of those are in critical condition. The three fatalities were Senator Raltova, and the crew of the freighter. We were able to find their bodies, which have been moved to the morgue, but we've determined that Senator Raltova was…vaporized due to her proximity to the explosion."

"Have you determined what caused the explosion, Captain?" Sorba's eyes began analyzing the pieces, as if his extreme eyesight could pick out a vital detail.

"No, Master Han, we haven't. Of course, we've only recovered 40 percent of the wreckage at most. Until we can find the rest of the debris, we can't make an accurate determination of the cause." Garren nodded in understanding.

"I see. By the way, did you find any smaller pieces?"

"Yes, we have those in the evidence lockers just down the hall."

"And the maintenance crew, have they been brought in for questioning?"

"We brought them in as soon as we were legally able to."

"Very good; Sorba, I want you to speak to the crew, get their stories on what happened. Tanake and I will look over the remains, see what we can find."

"Very good, Garren. Captain Ganteel, if you can show me the way please." With a nod, Ganteel escorted him down a connecting hallway.

"Alright Tanake, you stay here and look over the major pieces of wreckage. I will take a look at the smaller pieces, see what we can find." Tanake nodded and moved off towards a rather attractive male technician. Garren could only shake his head in amazement as he walked the adjoining room. It was filled with containers of small bits of metal burnt and twisted into a variety of perverse shapes. With methodical eyes, he began to scan each piece, looking for something that looked out of the ordinary. Anything would give him a clue as to what was the cause of the blast.

Bestine IV, Bestine System  
Corlen was woken up by the gentle nudging of Essex's tread and his fervent beeping, which was translated as "WAKE UP, WAKE UP! WE'RE HERE!"

"Alright, Essex, I'm up." After a brief stretch, he reconnoitered his surroundings. Judging from the bustle of activity and the intercom broadcasting departure instructions in several languages, he correctly assumed they were soon to land after four days of travel. Grabbing his satchel, he made himself ready to depart, while Essex whirred excitedly at his feet. During the journey, he had mentioned he had never been outside of the Core Worlds before and was immensely excited. Suddenly, with a great thud, the behemoth transport finally came to rest on solid ground. All at once the passengers, like a great flood, moved toward the exit ramps; each one greedy for real gravity and fresh air, and determined to make the best of an awkward situation. Wincing in response to the midday sun, Corlen shouldered his satchel and strode down the ramp, Essex close behind. After passing through the security checkpoints, they proceeded into Senesca City. Corlen proceeded to tell his insanely curious droid companion about himself, while leaving out certain details for personal and security reasons. Although he had taken a liking to this droid with its innocent demeanor and insatiable curiosity, he had only just met the little fellow. So for security, he kept out exactly why he was here, saying he was merely meeting a friend. Essex seemed to understand that he would learn no more, so he satisfied himself with what he knew already. Corlen was impressed by the droid's perceptiveness. As they entered the campus grounds, Corlen began scanning the crowds for his target looking for anything from his briefing that would identify Aeryn Raltova. While making his way to the main hall Essex, nonchalantly and of his own idea, hacked into the security mainframe and uploaded a map of the entire campus containing the locations of all students and faculty members on it. Quickly studying the map, he knew where to go and they departed for the Marine Biology center. Corlen, while annoyed at the possibility of an alarm being tripped and making his mission unnecessarily difficult, was impressed by the technical skill and independent streak of his new friend.

The Jauis Yorub Memorial Aquarium, named by the Mon Calamari refugees to honor a hero of the Second Imperial Civil War, resembled a humongous cavern, with well-placed lighting giving the impression of being underwater, with the holographic forms of several native creatures floating across the walls and ceiling as if they were dancing. It felt so serene to Corlen. He just stood there, mesmerized at the shapes, completely relaxed. It made him sad, however, since some of these creatures had been brought to extinction during the Great Genocide on Mon Calamari nearly three hundred years ago and he would never see them in their natural environments. But he pushed that that to the back of his mind as he made his way into the bowels of the aquarium. As he walked with Essex quietly following, he began to hear voices down a corridor adjacent to the main walkway. After checking the holomap, the Jedi and droid made their way to a service balcony overlooking a large auditorium. It looked as if it could fit a thousand people, and it was packed with persons from all different species. At the front, on a raised platform, a young woman spoke while occasionally pressing buttons on a small datapad that allowed her to shift the various holographic images behind her.

"MASTER, IS THAT THE PERSON YOU'RE LOOKING FOR?" Essex softly chimed. Corlen nodded. There was no doubt in his mind that this was Aeryn Raltova. Also beyond doubt was her beauty; while the image of her was lovely, there was no replacement for the real thing. Even from this distance, he could see the fire in her eyes, the authority in her stance, and hear the passion in her voice. He couldn't believe it, but he was finding himself attracted to a woman who was four years his senior. But his Jedi side reminded him of his priorities. He decided to wait until the lecture was over to make his presence known; interrupting the presentation would only draw unwanted attention. When the lecture would be over, he had no idea. So he tucked himself in a corner, instructing Essex to wake him when the presentation was over, and closed his eyes to organize his thoughts.

After four days, he had nothing. None of the remains had anything out of the ordinary; no chemicals, no components of any sort of an explosive device, nothing whatsoever, and he was worried. Garren ran his hands through his hair and began to wonder if he was making himself go bald. As he ran his fingers across a new piece of metal, he suddenly noticed the texture changed. Curious, he picked the piece up, noticing that something was fused into the metal. Something that looked like a piece of… shell. Quickly summoning an assistant, he was able to carefully remove it.

"This looks organic, like something I've seen before…" His eyes widened, horrified at the thought. "What part of the ship did this piece come from?!"

"We believe it came from the engineering section, Master Solo. Why?"

"This is the carapace from a Yuuzhan Vong Blast Bug, an organic explosive of immense power. Find Captain Ganteel and Masters Trang and Han and bring them here." The assistant left, and Garren grimaced. "Sabotage."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Camden asked through the view screen in Ganteel's office.

"Without a doubt. It was sabotage, through use of illegal Yuuzhan Vong technology. A blast bug, to be exact. Whomever did it knew what they were doing; they can't be detected by normal scans, and they always work, no matter the conditions."

"That still doesn't answer how the security was bypassed." At that, Sorba entered the picture.

"I believe I have the answer, sir. One of the mechanics, a man by the name of Nompek, says he believes his keycard was stolen."

"How so?" Garren and Camden replied simultaneously.

"Nompek says when he logged in on the day of the bombing, the computer recorded he had already come in three hours prior." At this Tanake chimed in.

"Okay, possible scenario: Nompek, after a long day at work, goes to a bar, gets drunk, gets helped home by someone who got him drunk. He passes out, benefactor takes card, bypasses security, plants blast bug, returns the card, and vanishes. Sounds good?" Sorba then proceeded to back up the scenario.

"Well, on the med scan, Nompek's blood alcohol level was above the legal limit for driving a speeder. Also there was a power surge detected in several cameras that night, which could explain why we have no video from the entrance to the landing pad."

"Well, it seems we have a sound theory of what happened, but where did the Vong technology come from? It's illegal in Alliance space, and simply the possession of it carries a severe prison sentence. Using it would constitute the death penalty!" Tanake answered Camden's question with an experienced answer.

"Just because it's illegal, sir, doesn't stop most of the major criminal groups such as the Velloc Syndicate. If they can profit from it, they don't care if it's legal or not. And if innocent people die, so much the better for those bastards."

"Well, thank you for the update. Report back if you uncover anything else." Camden's face was replaced by the rotating Starbird of the New Alliance.

"Alright. Sorba, you stay here and continue working with Captain Ganteel, see if you can get anything else from the wreckage or the crew. Also, find what bar Nompek went to, question anyone and everyone and find any camera footage. Tanake, you're coming with me."

"And where are we going?" Tanake asked quizzically as they made their way to the turbolift.

"To see an old friend."

The Senate District was home to more than just government buildings. It was also the crème de la crème of shopping, food, and entertainment. Some of the best reviewed nightclubs and restaurants in the galaxy existed in this district, most of which really came to life after the sun went down. And Garren and Tanake were going to the best club in town; The Millennium Falcon. A restaurant that catered to the wealthiest of the wealthy; senators, holo-drama stars, high ranking members of the military, anyone who was anyone came here. And tonight, Garren Solo and Tanake Trang were there. Not for the food, but for the owner. After getting past the doorman with a referral, they walked down a long hallway, which shuddered due to loud noises coming from the end.

"So, how do you know this guy? Tome?"

"Toome. Toome Fellis. He used to be a weapons smuggler in the Outer Rim who specialized in antique slugthrowers. I caught him a few years back when I was still a Knight, but on the way back to Alsakan for trial, we were attacked by some Aqualish pirates. Surprisingly, we had to work together to repel them, and afterward we struck up a friendship. I let him go, and he keeps me up to date with all that's going on in the criminal underworld."

"Seems he's done pretty well for himself."

"He is also a terrific sabacc player. Won the place from the previous owner in quite the high stakes game. Which he didn't cheat in, surprisingly." He was forced to raise his voice as they entered the actual establishment, as the Shooting Stars started up the "Inter-Galactic Boogie", to which Tanake cheered and Garren smiled in a reserved fashion. The two Jedi loved the Stars, especially their hit single "Palpatine Go Home" for obvious reasons. As they made their way to the main bar, a voice emerged from behind them. A warm, gravelly voice with a hint of chocolate.

"Great aren't they? Have them booked for the next three weeks! And boy, are they bringing in the credits!" They turned to see their quarry; Toome Fellis, a man of seventy years of age looking no older than fifty. A mane of silver hair covered his head and face, along with several scars, and multiple piercings dotted both ears. He had a body that had known strict physical conditioning, but had grown lax in later years. "Good to see you again, Garren old boy."

"You as well, you backstabbing scoundrel." A hearty handshake was exchanged between the current pursuer and the former dodger of justice. "So, running any scams I should know about?"

A fake wounding gesture was Toome's response. "Garren, how could you think such a thing?! I am a perfectly legitimate businessman now, thanks to you!" He shifted his gaze, noticing Tanake for the first time. "And who might be this lovely lady?"

"Toome, this is Tanake Trang, Jedi Knight. She's my partner, and one of my dear friends."  
"Ah, I see. Well, any friend of Garren Solo is a friend of mine." With a cavalier air, he bowed and kissed Tanake's hand. "Welcome to my humble establishment, milady. If there's anything I can do for you, please let me know." He finished his smooth-talk with a practiced wink. Any other woman would have been laid low by his charm, but Tanake wasn't any other woman.

"Actually there is. Could you tell me if that is Satine Bonteri down there at the lower bar?" Toome's eyes followed her finger until they gazed on a long haired women sitting at the bar, holding a martini in her hand and doing her best to remain ignored by the crowd.

"Why yes it is. She's one of my regulars, always tips well. Would you like me to introduce you to her?"

"No need. Garren, you do your thing and I'll do mine. Have fun." And just like that, she departed downstairs.

"So Toome, how have you been?"

"Great, just great. Business has been steady, although I have been worried."

"Worried?" Toome and Garren took seats at a small corner table, away from the crowds. "About what?"

"Well, I've been hearing stuff about what's going on all across the Outer Rim. The back channels have been buzzing with activity. They say that things are going to get worse before they get better."

"They may be right, which is why I came to you." He withdrew the blast bug shell from his robe. Toome's eyes went wide.

"Sithspit! Where did you get that?!"

"It was found in the wreckage of the Chandrilian Dream, the personal vessel of Senator Ilana Raltova. She died three days ago. Because of this." Toome nodded in acknowledgment.

"I heard about that on the news. You're telling me it was deliberate?"

"That much we know. This didn't just crawl into the ship and find its way to the engine room; these things aren't common household pests. What we don't know is who and why. That's where you come in. Have you heard anything on your back channels about any Vong-tech trading hands in the last few months?" Toome leaned back and closed his eyes, as is sorting through the filing cabinets of his mind.

"Well, nothing substantial, but I do remember hearing about a serious shakedown going on inside of the major criminal groups, including Black Sun and the Velloc Syndicate, during the last few months. After the Krath war, any group involved with those lunatics found themselves without any stable leadership but recently they've managed to get their acts together with help from an outside source. And even more recently in Hutt Territories the leaders of some of the smaller clans have been suffering fatal 'accidents' and their holdings have been divided and absorbed into the larger clans. I've also been hearing about massive freighter traffic between the Taloraan System, the Hutt Territories, the Corporate Sector, and the Tion Hegemony from a traffic controller on Nar Shaddaa whom I've had dealings with."

"The Taloraan System?" Toome nodded.

"Apparently, the demand for tibanna gas has gone through the roof." Garren scratched his goatee; this was a new development.

"Indeed. Alright then, thanks for the help, as always." He tossed him a communicator. "Contact me if you can find anything else out, but make sure to use a secure channel." Toome nodded in confirmation.

"Sure thing, Garren. I'll start digging around, see if anyone has something worth listening to." As they stood up, Garren placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.  
"Thank you Toome. Despite everything in your past, when all is said and done, you are a good man."

"Oh stop it Garren, you know I'm too old for that sentimental bullshit. Now, go get your lady-friend before it becomes impossible to get her away from the Senator." He gestured over to Tanake who was obviously enjoying herself. Garren could only laugh.

"That's Tanake for you." Then the hairs on the back of his neck rose: he noticed several figures standing in various corners, he counted about twelve, keeping very close to the shadows and looking nervous. He felt their nervousness rolling of them in waves. "Toome, you might want to call security and get the Stars off the stage." Toome at first didn't understand.

"What's wrong? You see something?"

"More like sense, and it's bad." With a quick nod, Toome called his security in. Garren buzzed Tanake on her communicator, and then flashed a series of quick hand gestures toward her. He could feel her tensing up. For a moment, nothing unusual happened; Toome had the unhappy job of informing the audience that the show was over early, which was followed by moans and expletives, and Tanake began moving herself and Senator Bonteri toward the stairs slowly. For a moment, it seemed that all was well. Then someone screamed "BLASTER!" and all hell broke loose. Within two seconds, Garren leaped over the railing, landed, drew his lightsaber, and was standing back to back with Tanake with teal and silver blades ignited. Soon, the smell of burnt ozone filled the air as blaster bolts began flying between the attackers and several armed patrons, with several unfortunate bystanders getting hit. The two Jedi ducked behind an upturned table with Toome and several of his armed bouncers, along with several armed patrons and Senator Bonteri. Garren noticed Toome was grinning.

"Just like Dubrillion, eh?" Garren grimaced; he didn't need to remember that debacle of five years ago.

"Do you have to remind me?" He glanced over the table, ducking a second before a blaster bolt vaporized a chunk of wroshyr wood, to which Toome grimaced.

"This stuff isn't cheap, you son of a bitch!" He bellowed right before proceeding to shoot him in the face. "Serves him right."

"Toome, cover us!" With that , Garren and Tanake leaped over the table and the fun began. Like it had all been rehearsed, the two Jedi danced and wove with almost inhuman grace; Tanake ducked under one and uppercut into his chest, while Garren brought two low with deflected blaster fire to their faces. Like a ballet of death they moved with grace and precision, laying low any poor fool who thought pulling a blaster on a Jedi would be the smartest thing they would do all day. The rest were eliminated by the crack shots of Toome's security and the few patrons who were looking forward to a nice, quiet night. After what seemed like minutes, eleven thugs were dead. But where was the twelfth? His question was answered as he saw a shadowed figure duck behind the bar before making a break for the kitchen.

"Tanake, stay with Toome and the Senator!" Garren clipped his lightsaber to his belt as he broke into a run, throwing off his robe. He nimbly dashed through the kitchen as his quarry did everything he could to slow him down, from pushing dish carts to throwing kitchen staff in his path. As he made it out the service exit Garren put on an extra burst of speed, knowing that if he lost him now he would never find him again. The assassin ran with desperate ferocity, shoving people aside as he made his way down the walkway.

"Move! Move!" Garren screamed as he desperately tried to keep pace amidst the flow of pedestrian traffic. Suddenly, the assassin made his way to edge of the walkway and leaped over the safety railing onto a rising transport heading for the skyline. Leaping after him, Garren just managed to grab and hold on. Drawing on the Force he threw himself onto the transport's roof, much to the shock of his quarry.

"Surrender now and tell me who you're working for, and I won't have to get nasty!" Garren roared over the engines. A barking laugh was his opponent's response.

"If it comes to getting nasty I'm way ahead of you, Jedi!" Whipping out two holdout blasters, he started firing wildly. But Garren's lightsaber was out and on in a flash and nothing came close to hitting him. One of the blaster bolts ricocheted back toward the shooter, striking one of his pistols and sending it over the edge. With a look of anger in his eyes, he made a running leap off the transport and landed on a walkway underneath before bolting into a park near the Civic Auditorium. Garren followed suit, however rolling to take the strain of landing off his knees. Entering the park with his legs burning from the strain, he deflected a few more shots as they wove through the veshok treees until he saw a family of Nautolans in the assassin's path. Suspecting that he would use the family as a living shield, he knew he had only one chance to stop him. Reaching out with the Force, he grabbed an overhanging branch and broke it as the assassin ran under it. The large branch, right on time, slammed into his head and knocked him flat on his back. Leaping over him, Garren gestured to the Nautolans to leave immediately. Turning round, he saw the assassin trying to grab his blaster. Using the Force with a gesture, he brought the weapon right into his hand.

"I don't think you'll be needing this anymore." He threw the gun behind him. "I told you I would get nasty if you didn't surrender, didn't I?"

"Eat bantha shit and die, Jedi!" The assassin spit at Garren, to which he responded by telekinetically lifting the man, hurling him into a nearby tree and pinning him.

"Now that wasn't very nice, was it?" He got no response from his prisoner, only a glare from eyes that burned with hatred for the Jedi. "Now, who were you and your men trying to kill? And, before you try, don't bother lying to me."

"It was the Senator from Onderon. Satine Bonteri. She was the target."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?! It's a job! Someone gives us money and we make someone dead!

"Who hired you?"

"And why, by the Emperor's Black Bones, would I tell you that?!"

"Should I ask politely and say please? If not, I'll turn you over to GA Security, and their interrogators are a great deal less...courteous than I." Suddenly, to Garren's surprise, the assassin started laughing.

"If I die, two more will replace me. And even if I was to tell you anything, what makes you think you could prevent what's coming? This galaxy is gonna burn, and there is nothing...NOTHING...that you can do about it!" All of a sudden, the hairs rose on the back of his neck as if there was something he missed. Then he heard the hissing.

"SHIT!" With barely enough time, Garren threw up a barrier with the Force that protected him from the heat of the blast, but the was nothing he could do to prevent the concussion from lifting him off his feet and throwing him several feet away, the landing knocking the air out of him. As he came to and opened his eyes, he saw the massive crater where the assassin and four nearby trees had been. The heat and smoke were almost overpowering but Garren ignored it as he focused on the single undeniable truth: The promising solid lead had, literally, blown up in his face. Suddenly exhausted, he sat down and patiently waited for the security cruisers to arrive. Suddenly he heard the beep of his comlink.

"Solo here." The holographic image of Tanake appeared on his arm.

"Thank the Force! Are you alright?"

"A bit singed and in need of a shower, but I'm fine. On the other hand, our assassin can't say the same. In fact he can't say anything at all."

"He took his own life?"

"Yes. The bastard used a blast-bug. There's nothing left. How about on your end?"

"Security forces are just finishing up cleaning up the Falcon. So far, we haven't found any sort of identification on the bodies." Suddenly Garren was struck with an idea based on something the assassin said.

"Tanake, check one of the bodies. Look for a marking on the back of the left hand." Silence followed for a moment. "Did you find it?"

"Yes, it looks like some kind of animal." Garren's eyes widened at this.

"A two headed dragon?"

"How did you know?" As she asked, Garren could here the sirens of security cruisers in the distance closing on the park.

"Because the symbol of the Velloc Syndicate is a Sith battle-hydra, a two headed dragon. Now we know that both the attack on the Falcon and the Raltova bombing are not unrelated incidents. We have something to connect them. Now we just have to figure out who hired the Syndicate and, more importantly, _why_."


	5. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars in any way, shape, or form. Star Wars is the property of Lucasfilm and Disney.

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Chapter 4

Bestine IV, Bestine System

A series of nudges from Essex was all that Corlen needed. The last of the attendees had left, leaving the speaker alone to clean up. After making sure the coast was clear and telling Essex to stay put, he leaped over the railing and silently landed. "Aeryn Raltova?"

"Sithspawn!" was her startled reply.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He suddenly felt self-conscious wearing his disguise, as if he was not supposed to be in her presence in such a state.

"That's okay. My mind was light years away. And to answer your question, yes. My name is Aeryn Raltova. And you are…?"

"Padawan Corlen Tenasa, at your service." He suddenly found himself bowing, a silly yet appropriate gesture. Her giggle was indication that his gesture was accepted. "I was sent here by the Chief of State and the Jedi Council to provide you safe conduct to Chandrila."

"I see. This is about my sister, isn't it?" He nodded. "I'm assuming, given the nature of her death, that I should wait to claim the body for burial until the investigation is finished."

"Yes." Corlen's answer caused shock to cross her face. "However, according to the preliminary reports, there is the strong probability that she was vaporized due to her proximity to the explosion." He saw the color drain from her face and her hands start to shake.

Corlen moved beside her. "Do you want to sit down?" She nodded and sat down on the stage, barely holding back a sob while gripping a datapad tightly.

"Vaporized?" Corlen nodded, which resulted in her screaming while flinging the datapad into the nearby wall, shattering into a thousand pieces. She broke down into a furious sobbing fit, crying into Corlen's shoulder while Corlen held her gently, stroking her hair and not saying a word. After a few moments, she stopped crying and just held him. Not a word was said between them, and then he reluctantly pushed her away.

"I am sorry for your loss, Miss Raltova, but we should get going." Corlen was truly sad, but it was a strange feeling. In accordance with the Jedi Code, he tried distance himself from emotions in order to focus on Jedi teachings. But now, listening to her talk about how she was hoping to get a chance to make up with the late Senator, he could not help but feel a pang of regret. He had lived his life never having known a real family. The only person who he could possibly consider family was Garren. He trained and raised Corlen, and in return Corlen all but worshiped him. He was the father he never had.

"Aeryn."

"What?"

"Call me Aeryn. Miss Raltova makes me sound like a spinster." And then Corlen suddenly laughed. Then she started laughing, and in that moment of shared mirth, something of a connection was created.

"Then you may call me Corlen, and you are certainly no spinster." Aeryn blushed and was about to reply when a shrill series of beeps interrupted the moment, as Essex used his built-in boosters to drop to ground level. 'He's revealing more tricks every minute.' He thought to himself. "By the way, allow me to introduce my companion. This is S6-D7, or 'Essex'. Essex, this is Aeryn Raltova." Essex retracted his middle wheel and rotated his body a full 90 degrees, so that the top of his dome was facing Aeryn; his attempt at bowing. Corlen saw Aeryn's wide smile and mentally promised to treat him to a first class oil bath.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Essex. What a well-mannered droid you are." She rubbed his dome and Corlen found himself smiling; Essex just made a new friend. But before he got distracted, he remembered his mission.

"Aeryn, we really should be going." Placing his hand on her shoulder, he felt a sense of warmth and comfort that he had never felt before. It was as if something turned on in his brain that he had no prior experience with. It felt…nice, but scary at the same time. So he pushed it out of his mind; for now, at least.

"Lead the way, my brave Jedi protector." Another laugh was shared between the two former strangers as they made their way from the auditorium. As they left the aquarium and walked onto the main grounds, Corlen's senses began screaming; something was very wrong. All of a sudden, a jogger running in front of them suddenly collapsed in front of them following a high pitched noise: someone had taken a shot with a high powered sniper rifle. Corlen shoved Aeryn down behind a small wall, following her with Essex whipping behind with a loud shriek as the crowd panicked and chaos ensued as pedestrians threw themselves at the nearest available cover and several people ran toward them with blasters drawn.

"Sithspit!" Corlen shouted as he withdrew his lightsaber. "Here. You'll need this." He withdrew a blaster pistol from a holster on his thigh and, after checking the power supply, handed it to Aeryn.

"A Merr-Sonn Munitions Model 434. Impressive." Corlen couldn't help but stare; she was more and more interesting with the passage of time. "I was in the military. College tuition and all."

"Not bad, but it's actually a Model 626. They kept the original design, but made some improvements." He leaned around the corner, seeing a faint outline: the result of a personal cloaking device. "But I think we should continue this conversation when we aren't in a life-or-death situation."

"Agreed. If we could make it to that walkway, the tram could take us all the way to the spaceport." Corlen passed this thought through his mind, and then shook his head.

"No, too many bystanders and there are about six stops before the spaceport, which increases our chances of getting caught. And they might have put charges on the tracks just in case. No, what we need is something small and fast." As he said this, he saw a nearby speeder park lot. "I have an idea. Essex, do you happen to have a fire extinguisher?" A quick nod was his response. "Alright then, here's the plan: Essex, you go in front and spray your extinguisher. That should provide a suitable smokescreen. Aeryn, you go next. Keep your head down and don't stop for anything. Anything, you hear me?!" Aeryn nodded. "Good. I'll bring up the rear. Make for that speeder lot as quickly as you can when I give the word." A quick whirr signaled Essex's readiness, and a slow crescendo whine of a charged power pack signaled Aeryn's.

"Wait…wait…NOW!" Essex let loose with his fire extinguisher, sending up a huge white cloud as he raced forward with Aeryn close behind and Corlen in the rear, his lightsaber up and ready with its golden blade humming a familiar tune. Despite the gravity of the situation, Corlen could only feel exhilaration. He hadn't felt this alive and in tune with the Force since...Cinnagar. Every nerve ending was on fire and every sense was awake and aware. As the cloud dissipated blaster fire erupted from their assailants. Aeryn, with her steady aim, kept up a constant firing pattern. Corlen did the same, deflecting bolts with his lightsaber and send his shooters diving for cover with his blaster. Essex fearlessly blazed ahead, whirring and screeching with such un-droidlike joy. Before they knew it, they had made to the speeder park. Picking a vehicle at random, Corlen and Aeryn threw themselves behind it.

"Essex, see if you can do a remote startup. I don't think the driver will mind." He quickly went to work; all the while his two human companions defended him vigilantly. After a few minutes which seemed like hours, the engine roared to life. Aeryn dropped into the pilot's seat, while Corlen called shotgun. Since it also possessed a sizable trunk, Essex set himself in there, the door slamming shut just as blaster bolts flew overhead.

"Coming through!" Aeryn roared over her shoulder as she violently reversed out of the lot and then gunned the engine, sending the speeder rocketing into the sky as blaster bolts peppered the undercarriage. As they joined the flow of traffic, Corlen looked behind to see if there was any pursuit. Just then, the overpowering aroma of ozone hit him along with a burning sensation; a blaster bolt has just singed the hair above his left ear. Turning around, he saw seven speeder bikes coming straight at them.

"Hang on!" Aeryn sent the speeder straight down with the tail end clipping the end of the last speeder bike that passed over them, sending it and its rider spinning into a nearby building with a loud explosion.

"Keep going! Bring us underneath the traffic, and get us to the spaceport!" Corlen roared as he struggled to keep his seat as the vehicle plummeted toward the water. He could faintly hear Essex's screams in the trunk and hoped he was alright. Suddenly, Aeryn leveled out and all of the air left Corlen's lungs. Making sure he was in one piece, he turned around to see the six remaining pursuers behind them and gaining fast. Leaping onto the back of the speeder he ignited his lightsaber. While he dodged and deflected blaster bolts, Aeryn weaved the speeder in and out of boat traffic with a skill bordering on insanity. But if anyone could keep their balance, it was Corlen; he demonstrated this with a practiced saber throw, severing the stabilizer fins of the lead speeder. This sent the damaged vehicle and its unlucky rider into a collision with the bike behind it, and then both went into the water. The rest were able to avoid it by the narrowest of margins, but that didn't stop Corlen from letting loose an unprofessional scream of triumph; he was enjoying this way too much! However, he did manage to notice that the apparent leader of this little party was wearing jet black armor in the style of a Mandalorian warrior. Since the Mandalorian Liberators were staunch allies of the Alliance, this could mean only two things; he was an up-and-comer who wanted to impress someone, or…he was with the _Kyr'tsad_. The Death Watch. Corlen mentally cringed, remembering he fought against the fanatics before: Two years ago during the Krath War, when they allied with the cultists in pursuit of wealth, power and the support needed to reclaim Mandalore. He then heard a sound he had heard too many times before: the whipping sound of a flechette pistol firing. Suddenly, he felt a stinging pain in shoulder which caused his lightsaber to fly out of his hand. He then felt his balance begin to fail.

"CORLEN!" Aeryn screamed as her Jedi companion suddenly toppled over the side, barely ducking as several flechette projectiles pierced the windscreen right where her head was not two seconds before. She frantically tried to see if Corlen was still holding on while blindly firing behind her, making a hard left turn. When she couldn't see him, she feared the worst. Then she heard a shout followed by a splash, which caused her to look behind; to her surprise and joy, Corlen was behind her on a commandeered bike. However, she noticed that his lightsaber was gone.

"Keep going for the spaceport! I'm going to try something!" Corlen roared as he pulled his vehicles nose up in a dangerous loop sending him straight over the Mandalorian's head, during which he examined his assailant: no shifts in body language and the various symbol drawn in red and gold paint on the armor only served to reinforce his assumptions. As he leveled out in the rear, he began to formulate a plan: the Mandalorian had taken the lead and was slowly gaining on Aeryn despite her valiant defense. His cronies had taken up flanking positions and were slowly turning their weapons on him. Instinctively, he reached for his lightsaber…only to grab air. He was shocked, they were happy: all in all, this wasn't turning out too well. "Okay, new plan!" He screamed as he gunned the engine, bobbing in weaving through a hail of blaster fire. Then, all of a sudden, a stray shot pierced the engine which caused the bike to begin slowing down. With a sudden rush of desperate adrenaline, he leaped into the air just as another shot destroyed the vehicle. He landed on the back of one of his pursuers and with a roar he picked the rider up by the shoulders and hurled him into his associate, sending both of them and the bike into the water: now the pursued was the pursuer. As he accelerated, his mind began to formulate various plans. However, when his quarry fired his pistol at Aeryn, sending flechette rounds where her head had been not a second ago only one plan came to mind; take him down, whatever the cost. Abandoning all sense of self-preservation he gunned the engine, bringing his bike alongside the assassin. Then, as he saw the pistol coming to eye level, he banked hard to the right. As the bikes collided, he threw himself into his adversary. The impact threw both of them onto a nearby restaurant patio and into several sets of outdoor furniture. Behind them, their vehicles spun out of control together and plowed into the water below. Corlen was the first to rise, wincing as the pain in his shoulder became more evident. Staggering, he began to survey the damage as terrified patrons fled the scene. But he could find no sign of his opponent. Suddenly, warning bells went off in his head and he leaped into the air as a chair flew underneath him and slammed into an upturned table. As he landed, he saw the assassin rise from a small pile of furniture. Half the helmet was damaged, so Corlen could see part of his mouth; there was a thin line of blood running from his grinning face. His eyes widened when he saw a familiar scar running from his lip to his chin in a jagged white line.

"It's not possible..."

"Corlen Matale. Well, this is certainly an unexpected moment." He said, spitting a small wad of blood from his mouth. "But it does make my job far more interesting. Who would have thought that I would be standing before my father's murderer on the eve of completing my biggest contract ever?"

"I didn't kill your father, Cassus! He was already dead when I found him!"

"Shut up, chakaar! I will have my vengeance, and regain my place as a Mando'ad!"

"Well if you want your vengeance then take it in single combat as your ancestors did!" Corlen placed himself into a fighting stance, remembering from earlier lessons that with Mandalorians one should always expect the unexpected. Still, he was surprised when his opponent let out a small chuckle.

"Well, I am afraid that will be quite impossible at the moment. My employers, who must remain anonymous for professional reasons, are willing to pay quite a sum for the Raltova woman's head. Although for a Jedi, especially you, I'm sure they would be willing to throw in a bonus!" On 'bonus', he tossed a small blinking metal sphere straight at Corlen's face. Deftly dodging it, he suddenly realized what it was just before his whole word became consumed by a bright light and piercing whine. Then he felt a succession of blows to his head and torso with him keeping his arms in tight, trying to minimize the damage. Then, his assailant finished with a well-placed knee to his face which sent him reeling back. He could feel his head slam into the ground, as well as the fractured cartilage in his nose. As the noise and light began to dissipate, he heard "…love to stay and continue this little stress relief session by killing you, Matale, but I have my priorities. Work before play, as my father taught me." He then heard a loud boom which could only be described as an igniting jetpack.

"Oh no you don't!"With his head pounding, he reached into his utility belt and withdrew a grappling hook launcher. Forcing himself to focus, he depressed the switch and launched the grapple. It struck the back of the jetpack just as it was almost out of range, which then caused the line to go suddenly taught and violently drag Corlen up with it. He could feel the grinding of bones as his shoulder dislocated, but forced the pain to back of his mind and concentrated on not letting the assassin get away. Whatever the cost, he could not let harm come to Aeryn. With this thought reinforced in his mind, he began to slowly climb the wire. This was made increasingly difficult as Rohath began an extremely erratic flight pattern, trying to dislodge him. Sadly for his quarry, all it did was annoy the young Jedi until with a roar of desperate pain he yanked hard on the line, launching him upwards and pulling his target down until they met in the middle. Their reunion was off to a good start with Corlen viciously pummeling his assailant and then being pummeled in kind as they spun violently through the skyline to the amazement and horror of bystanders. Despite the disorientation and pain Corlen willed himself to keep on the offensive, to keep Aeryn safe. The thought of this sent new strength flooding through Corlen's body as he knocked off his opponent's helmet and slammed his fists into his face and torso, not minding that his knuckles were raw and bloody or that his face was covered in blood and bruises. In desperation, Cassus ignited his afterburners in an attempt to dislodge his unwanted hitchhiker only to send them both in a headlong rush toward the ground. In a split-second, Corlen shoved himself off his opponent just before impact. He managed to land with some semblance of grace. His adversary was not so fortunate. He slammed into the ground while his jetpack, having dislodged itself, raced off into the heavens where it summarily exploded. Corlen rose before suddenly doubling over in a sudden wave of pain and nausea. Forcing himself to straighten, pushing past the unbelievable pain, he surveyed his surroundings through his one good eye, the other being bruised and swollen shut due to a lucky punch, he realized that they were on the outskirts of the spaceport. But there was no sign of his opponent. Could he have been killed? He pushed that question aside, as he realized he needed to find Aeryn and get her off-world. After spitting a wad of blood and possibly a broken tooth, he began to slowly walk forward: One foot in front of the other, making sure to have sure footing before placing the entirety of his weight on one foot before transferring it to the other. He tried to keep watch over his immediate vicinity, in case his opponent tried anything, but the effort was almost too much. He sunk to one knee, crying out in pain as his kneecap hit the ground. His vision blurring, he thought he could see someone running toward him. Friend? Foe? He couldn't tell, nor could he find the strength to care. He fell onto his side but felt himself landing on something soft, something that wasn't durasteel. It felt…warm. He unconsciously nestled into in as he felt what he thought were fingers brushing errant strands of hair off his bloody face. He could also hear things; more specifically, voices.

"…you alright?" That was all he could make out. He willed his mind to clear, to banish the feeling of absolute peace threatening to consume him. As his vision cleared, he saw Aeryn's features come into focus. All of a sudden, something came over him. A feeling of…contentment. True, universal, contentment. Let the galaxy turn, suns explode, empires rise and fall; right now none of it mattered. All that mattered was the woman holding his broken form with the utmost care. 'This must be what...love feels like.' He thought.

"Corlen, are you alright?" His first response was a low groan as the reality of his pain came back full force. Then, willing air into his lungs, he responded in what sounded like croaking.

"It's not as bad as it looks." He couldn't understand why he made a joke, but understanding came in the form of Aeryn's tearful laughter. He could feel her tears falling on his cheeks, and did his best to dry them with his undamaged arm.

"Please don't cry." He quietly pleaded as his hand brushed her face. She held it in her free hand and smiled.

"Well this couldn't be any more perfect; the object of my revenge and the object of my employment together." They was genuinely startled as they saw Cassus rise from the debris, face covered in blood with one eye swollen shut. One of his arms hung limp at his side, but the other one was holding a blaster that was covering both of them. Even in his grievously injured state, Corlen could analyze the situation: Aeryn's blaster, which had been placed to the side when she came to him, was too far away now. Corlen's lightsaber was lost in the canals, and he was too weak to use the Force in any significant capacity. So in short, they were screwed. "Ever since Cinnagar I have dreamed of this moment. The moment when my father's murderer would be at my mercy and justice would be mine. You had to stick your nose in where it didn't belong, kill my men, injure me and make this job ten times more difficult than it should be! And for that, I'm going to kill you first. I'm going to start nice and slowly while she watches..." And then, out of the corner of Corlen's eye, he saw a head poking over the edge of the canal followed by something thrown into the air. His eyes widened as he saw what it was. As time seemed to slow and the lightsaber descended he forced himself to rise, placing himself between Aeryn and her assassin. With every last bit of energy, he threw himself forward and willed the lightsaber into his 's smug grin evaporated as he heard the snap-hiss of the ignited blade. He fired off five shots in quick succession, all deflected by Corlen's flawless sword play. Smugness turned to panic as he started backing up toward the canal's edge, still firing, trying to keep distance between himself and his adversary and failing. Suddenly Corlen burst forward and, with deadly skill, dove under the last shot and cleanly severed his arm. The arm was still falling and he was still forming a scream when Corlen spun around and drove the blade into his chest right up to the hilt. Speechless, he looked at the metal protrusion in his chest and then to Corlen, whose face was red with pain and fury.

"Send my regards to your father." He withdrew the blade and with a well placed kick sent him over the edge and into the water. Corlen, extinguishing the blade, gazed over the edge and felt a coldness creep into his heart. He had killed men before, but it never got easier. He was a Jedi, a preserver of life. To take a life, even the life of an enemy, is a serious matter and should be done only when all options are exhausted. But, he had threatened Aeryn. A woman who he had only just met but had left such an impression on him. He knew that he would protect her from anyone who threatened her, even going so far as to kill. But he knew that such dedication might lead to a...darker path. As he brooded, he saw a young Mon Calamarian waving to him from the water; the same one who threw his lightsaber to him. Upon this realization, his grim mood vanished and he returned the wave with a weak smile before the youth dove beneath the surface. Unfortunately, as his mood vanished so did his last ounce of strength and soundlessly he collapsed. He thought no more of darkness or love or anything at all.


End file.
